Feels Good 1 The Feels Good Theory of Pleasure Abstract Most philosophers since Sidgwick have thought that

the various forms of pleasure differ so radically that one cannot find a common, distinctive feeling among them. This is known as the heterogeneity problem. To get around this problem, the motivational theory of pleasure suggests that what makes an experience one of pleasure is our reaction to it, not something internal to the experience. I argue that the motivational theory is wrong, and not only wrong, but backwards. The heterogeneity problem is the sole source of motivation for this, otherwise, highly counterintuitive theory. I intend to show that the heterogeneity problem is not a genuine problem and that a more straightforward theory of pleasure is forthcoming. I argue that the various experiences that we call pleasures all feel good. Introduction We can feel pleasure from eating a juicy peach, smelling clean laundry, emptying a full bladder, seeing the friendly smile of a passing stranger, solving a puzzle, taking a warm bath on a cold day, hearing the laughter of children, watching a cat play with a rubber band, climbing into a soft bed, thinking of someone we love, soaking up the sun, and so on. Undeniably, pleasures come from a wide variety of sources and they also vary radically in size and shape. Although we might not be able to quantify the difference, the pleasure of an orgasm is typically much more intense than the pleasure had from finding our misplaced car keysthat is, they differ in size. In addition, pleasures vary in shape; it seems that the pleasure had from eating barbeque is of a very different sort than that had from solving a crossword puzzle. The variety of the sources and sizes of the experiences that we call pleasurable has not proved nearly as important in the development of theories of pleasure as that of the variety in shapes. To see why, one merely needs to ask, if pleasures can be as different as circles and squares, why do we call them all by the same name? Most

Feels Good 2 philosophers since Sidgwick have thought that the various forms of pleasure differ experientially to such an extent that one cannot find a common, distinctive feeling among them. The heterogeneity of pleasurable experiences is thought to make it something of a mystery as to why we call these things by the same name. This is known as the heterogeneity problem. One popular type of solution to the heterogeneity problem claims that the reason why we call all these different types of experiences pleasures is not because of some similarity in the way the experiences feel, since they feel very different, but because of similarities in our responses. Simply put: A similar response to otherwise dissimilar experiences is why we call them all by the same name. The most compelling version of this kind of explanation is called the motivational theory of pleasure. Very roughly, the motivational theory of pleasure holds that a feeling should be called pleasurable if it is one that we would rather have than not have, for its own sake. I argue that the motivational theory of pleasure is wrong, and not only wrong, but backwards. The heterogeneity problem is the sole source of motivation for the motivational theory of pleasure; otherwise the theory is highly counterintuitive, since it suggests that what makes an experience one of pleasure is our reaction to it, not something internal to the experience. I intend to show that the heterogeneity problem is not a genuine problem and that a more straightforward theory of pleasure is forthcoming.

Motivational Theory The motivational theory of pleasure holds that what makes an experience pleasurable is not the presence of any one common feeling, but that it prompts a common

Feels Good 3 response. As for the kind of response, multiple candidates have been proposed, including the following: the thought that the experience is desirable, the desire to continue the experience, the concurrent desire to be having the experience, and being pleased that the experience is occurring.1 The sole source of motivation for the motivational theory is the heterogeneity problem. No one would think to identify the nature of pleasure with a response and not an aspect of the pleasurable experience if it were not for the heterogeneity problem. Of course, one could excuse the fact that the motivational theory is counterintuitive if it worked, but no formulation of the theory is free from serious problems. My discussion will focus on the most compelling version of the theory, one recently proposed by Chris Heathwood.2 In The Method of Ethics, Sidgwick develops a proto-motivational theory, which holds that pleasures are experiences that we find desirable.3 He makes it clear that the heterogeneity problem is the principal driver for his theory. Unable to specify a common phenomenal aspect of pleasurable experiences, Sidgwick proposes that we must be identifying pleasure with those experiences that we think are worth desiring or those that we find preferable to others. Sidgwick explains that when I reflect on the nature of pleasure,using the term in the comprehensive sense which I have adopted [. . .],the only common quality that I can find in the feelings so designated seems to be that relation to desire and volition expressed by the general term desireable [. . .] I propose to therefore define Pleasure [. . .] as a feeling which, when experienced by intelligent beings, is at least implicitly apprehended as desirable orin cases of comparisonpreferable. 4 Unfortunately, Sidgwicks theory is prone to obvious counter-examples. A committed ascetic may take pleasure from being tossed into a warm bath on a cold morning, but he might not think that the experience is desirable. Given his ascetic commitments, he might prefer to have remained cold. Similarly, an epicurean might take pleasure from an

Feels Good 4 expensive glass of wine, but when the price is revealed she may not find the experience desirable, since it might interfere with her ability to appreciate the two-buck chuck she is currently satisfied with. And a reluctant sadist may take pleasure in the cries of injured children, but wish that he was not the kind of person that enjoyed the suffering of others. These examples show, contra Sidgwick, that one can take pleasure in experiences that one does not find desirable. Richard Brandt proposes a similar theory that identifies pleasure by reference to motivation. He presents a motivational theoretical-construct theory. The theory to which we come is, roughly, that for an experience to be pleasurable is for it to make the person want its continuation.5 But Brandts theory is also subject to counterexamples. For instance, one can take pleasure from a bite of a rich dessert, so rich that one could not stomach another crumb. Similarly, walking down the road one might take pleasure in the sweet perfume of a rose garden, but not want to continue the experience. Desserts become cloying and perfumes suffocating in prolonged doses. Hence, one can take pleasure in an experience that one does not desire to continue. Although Sidgwick's and Brandt's theories are problematic, more sophisticated versions of the theory are forthcoming. William Alston argues that a promising form of the motivational theory of pleasure is that to get pleasure is to have an experience which, as of the moment, one would rather have than not have, on the basis of its felt quality, apart from any further considerations regarding consequences. 6 Similarly, Thomas Carson defines the motivational theory of pleasure as the view that the pleasantness or unpleasantness of an experience is a function of one's desires with respect to it qua feeling. A pleasant experience is an experience that one prefers to have rather than to not have (abstracting from all considerations about its consequences and preconditions). 7

Feels Good 5

The advantage of this style of formulation of the theory is that it both rules out extrinsic factors and focuses on the present. Hence, the ascetic's reservations about the possible undesirable consequences of pleasurable experiences are irrelevant. Likewise, the cloying second bite is not a problem since the theory does not require a desire to continue the experience. Following this model, Heathwood considers his key contribution to the theory of pleasure to be the precise formulation he gives to the idea that sensory pleasures are somehow intimately related to desire. The bulk of Heathwood's effort is spent revising simple forms of the MTP to get around niggling objections involving anti-luminosity and disappointments. His final formation of the MTP is as follows: a sensation S, occurring at time t, is a sensory pleasure at t iff the subject of S desires, intrinsically and de re, at t, of S that it be occurring at t. 8 To state it less formally, the theory is that a sensation is a sensory pleasure if and only if it is contemporaneously desired for its own sake. As stated above, the MTP implies that pleasure can be reduced to desire, since there is nothing more to being a pleasure than simply being desired in the right way. This should strike us as odd, since we often get more or less pleasure out of things than we had desire for them. Often we find that things we desired a great deal bring no little or no pleasureexperiences that Sidgwick calls Dead Sea apples. Conversely, we can be pleasantly surprised. We can take a great deal of pleasure out of experiences for which we had little or no pre-existing desire. Consider an unexpected massage: Although you may have no pre-existing desire for a massage, if a friend comes up behind you and starts to rub your shoulders, it is certainly possible to feel pleasure. Similarly, someone could be reluctantly dragged along to a play but, unexpectedly, end up enjoying it

Feels Good 6 tremendously. These examples simply highlight the obvious: Our expectations are not always correct. The basic problem for a crude desire-based theory of pleasure is that the intensity of our desire frequently fails to predict the intensity of our pleasure. Heathwood's resolution to this problem is to restrict the relevant desires to those that are contemporaneous with the sensations. Although we might have desired something a great deal, if we did not take pleasure in its experience this indicates that we did not desire it much while it was occurring. Similarly, we do not have to form a preexisting desire for something to find it pleasant. When we find something pleasant, according to the motivational theory, we desire the experience for its own sake while it is occurring. The contemporaneous requirement solves the major problems facing other desired-based theories of pleasure.9

Two Problems for the Motivational Theory of Pleasure Before presenting the feels good theory of pleasure, I want to raise two problems with the motivational theory. First, it is likely that we often do, and perfectly coherent to think that we could, intrinsically desire non-pleasures. And, second, the motivational theory of pleasure makes it impossible to use pleasure to explain motivation.

1. Painful Art and Desired Non-Pleasures The biggest problem with any attempt to reduce pleasure to desire is that no such reduction can account for the fact that we sometimes intrinsically (and contemporaneously) desire experiences that are unpleasant if not outright painful. If this

Feels Good 7 is the case, then having a contemporaneous desire for an experience for its own sake is not sufficient to call that experience pleasurable. Good examples of desired non-pleasures can be found in the philosophy of art, where the paradox of tragedy has troubled theorists since Aristotle. The paradox of tragedy has often been framed as a question about pleasure: How is it that audiences can take pleasure in the portrayal of the suffering of others? Some find this question too limited and think that they paradox should take a more general form. The more important question concerns artworks that are putatively painful. In fact the paradox of tragedy has been called a sub-problem of the paradox of painful art. The fundamental question is this: Why do audiences seek out artworks that they know will arouse negative emotions, when people generally avoid situations that elicit such reactions in their normal lives?10 The paradox of painful art is essentially a conflict between audience reports and a default assumption of motivational hedonism. If audiences really do find some artworks painful, why do they want to see them? Some theorists propose compensatory solutions to the problem, suggesting that audiences must find some pleasure to compensate for the pain. The problem with all hedonistic solutions is that although there are surely many pleasures to be had from a well crafted narrative, audiences do not always describe their experiences as on the whole pleasurable. In fact there are many cases where people describe their experiences as genuinely painful. Consider Ingmar Bergman's horribly depressing six hour series Scenes from a Marriage (1973). The third episode is one of the most excruciating stories ever told. Marianne (Liv Ullmann) is at the summer house for the week with the children. Her husband Johan is not expected home until the weekend. When he makes a surprise visit,

Feels Good 8 Marianne is overjoyed. A giddy child, she runs around the house merrily fixing Johan a snack, saying how happy she is that he came to the cottage earlier than expected. Her happiness makes Johan's news all that more crushing: He tells Marianne that he has fallen in love with another woman (Paula) and will be leaving that night with his mistress on a six month trip. Their conversation lasts for an excruciating half hour of screen time, during which Johan proceeds to show Marianne, albeit at her request, a wallet picture of his lover! Only a sadist could take joy in this episode. I would not describe my experience of this episode as in any way pleasurable, but I find it to be one of the most effective affair fictions ever created. Indeed, pardon my gushing, it contains some of the most powerful moments in cinematic history. I would recommend it to others, largely for the experience. But it is not pleasurable. No, it is nothing less than emotionally devastating. And to use terms Heathwood thinks are indicative of pleasure, I am into it, and give it a big thumbs up. But I am into the work because of the decidedly non-pleasurable experiences it affords. In the sense of like that simply means that I think it is excellent and would recommend it to others, I like it. I like the work (for the experiences it affords); however, I hesitate to say that I like the work, since it carries connotations of pleasure. If to like means something closer to being pleased that something is the case, I certainly did not like watching Scenes from a Marriage. But you should see it if you have not already. One might reply that although pleasure might not be the source of motivation, audiences must be seeking out some other source of value. The painful experiences are perhaps instrumental to or constitutive of this value, but the pain is not intrinsically valuable. In response, I argue that audiences do in fact desire the ultimately unpleasant

Feels Good 9 experiences for the sake of having the experiences. Watching Scenes from a Marriage is not like going to the dentist. We do not endure the drilling to end a throbbing ache. Certainly we may find value in the insightful portrayal of suffering and marriage, but that does not exhaust our motivation. Although audiences may also find various forms of value in experiencing the work, no compensation is necessary for the negative experiences it engenders. Even if most, or even all, actual audiences never desire painful art experiences intrinsically, it is perfectly coherent to imagine that people could intrinsically desire nonpleasures. Imagine a super-hypnotist, Mesmer, who has the power to impart desires. It is perfectly coherent to imagine that Mesmer could give someone the desire to experience the sensation of chewing yarn, touching a 9-volt battery against the tongue, driving nails through ones genitals, licking stamps, or counting toothpicks, for no reason at all. But we would not want to say that Mesmers victims necessarily feel pleasure, even though they intrinsically desire such experiences. Hence, there is no conceptual connection between pleasure and desire. In fact, as noted above, I do not think that there is an actual, empirical connection either. Real live, normal people sometimes intrinsically desire nonpleasures, often in response to art.

2. The Euthyphro Problem Although pleasure is surely not the sole motivation for pursuing artworks or anything else, it would be strange to say that it plays no role whatsoever. But this is what the motivational theory of pleasure forces us to say. The theory holds that what makes something pleasurable is that we desire it, not the other way around. If we accept the

Feels Good 10 motivational theory we cannot say that people pursue experiences for pleasure. This would simply amount to saying that they pursue such experiences because they desire them. But we want to know why they desire them, not that they desire them. We knew that already. Hence, if we accept the motivational theory, pleasure cannot function in any motivational explanation. This is a very odd consequence. One that is too much to swallow if a compelling alternative theory is available. The motivational theory of pleasure answers on the wrong side of this Euthyphrostyle problem. Commonly, one describes an experience as pleasurable as a way of explaining why people would or should pursue it. For instance: Have you ever run through a lawn sprinkler on a hot summer afternoon? Oh, well, you should try aiming a sprinkler over a swimming pool. The cool mist feels great. Its extremely pleasurable. Oh how I miss such simple summer pleasures living in New York. . . . Now, if the motivational theory of pleasure is correct, this description of the pleasures of sprinkler-mist lacks much of the content that one might otherwise think is present. Describing the cool mist as pleasurable is, according to the motivational theory, just to say that it affords an experience that one would desire for its own sake. But thats not all that I meant to say. No, by calling it pleasurable, I meant to say that the experience feels good. Of course, this is not incredibly descriptive, but it is far different from saying that I simply desire such experiences.

Feels Good 11 The Feels Good Theory of Pleasure My simple proposal is that pleasurable experiences are those that feel good. It should be clear that I have the intuitive solution to the Euthyphro problem on my side. Pleasurable experiences are not pleasurable simply because we prefer them, desire their continuance, or think them desirable; rather, we prefer them, desire their continuance, and think that they are desirable because they feel good. Whats common about all these experience? They feel good. To feel good is not simply to engender a contemporaneous intrinsic desire, though this often happens; it is, well, to feel good. This is not an unilluminating suggestion, but to feel good is about as close to an experiential primitive as we get. Although we might be able to describe the particular experience that feels good, we cannot be much more specific about what it is for an experience to feel good other than to say, like Louis Armstrong about jazz: If you have to ask what it is for something to feel good, youll never know. In any case, I will try to say a little more about what it is to feel good. I am hesitant to describe the pleasure as supervening on the experience or emerging from the properties experience, since a technical metaphysical description of the relationship between the pleasure and the experience would not clarify the experiential similarity. It would be more distracting than helpful. Phenomenology is likely our best tool. As in all areas of experiential description, if one wants to move beyond pounding on the table, one cannot help but make recourse to metaphors. Here are a few: we might say that the locus of the pleasurable sensation glows; we feel a warm feeling; the good feeling hums like the vibration of a tuning fork. Something about pleasurable experiences just feels good. The experience overall has this quality, this tone

Feels Good 12 or hue. It cannot be cleanly extracted from the experience itself. My suggestion is that pleasurable experienceswhether of eating a peach or solving a puzzleall have this, pick your metaphor, warm hum. The feels good theory of pleasure is a species of what Fred Feldman calls felt quality theories, of which there are two types. The two types are the hedonic tone theory and the distinctive feeling view. Lets start with the latter. The distinctive feeling view holds that pleasure is a distinct, common aspect of experience that we call pleasurable. Pleasurable experiences, on this view, are those that give rise to the distinct feeling of pleasure. The distinctive feeling view suffers from two significance problems, both noted by Alston. First, Alston argues that if pleasure were a distinctive feeling, it would become distracting. During a pleasurable experience one would likely become focused on the distinctive pleasurable feeling and end up incapable of continuing the activity. This would amount to something akin to the paradox of happinesstry to be happy and you will likely fail; try to feel the distinctive feeling of pleasure and it will likely stop. If the distinctive feeling view is right, then we would frequently stop feeling pleasure because we would become focused on the distinctive feeling of pleasure. The distraction would be damning. But, this doesnt happen, or so Alston thinks. Hence, the distinctive feeling view must be wrong. As a second criticism, Alston argues that the distinctive feeling view suffers from a variant of the heterogeneity problem, namely, if the feeling is so distinctive, why cant we isolate it. If the theory is correct, we ought to be able to identify a distinct, common feeling across a range of different experiences. But we cant. Hence the distinctive feeling view lacks phenomenological support.

Feels Good 13 Although I propose a felt quality theory of pleasure, I do not want to defend the distinctive feeling view. To give it a traditional label, I propose whatfollowing C. D. Broadmight be called a hedonic tone theory of pleasure, about which the only compelling criticism is the heterogeneity problem.11 Alstons damning criticisms of the distinctive feeling view are inapplicable to the hedonic tone versions of felt quality theories. The feels good theory avoids both the distraction and isolation problems that afflict the distinctive feeling view. The feels good theory does not suffer from the distraction problem, since it does not propose that pleasure is a separate, distinct aspect of a sensation. Rather, the feels good theory holds that the sensation simply feels good overall. Hence, there is nothing to be distracted by. The experience overall has a tone that cannot be cleanly extracted or focused on apart from the experience itself. This is why it is so difficult to describe and why it does not distract from the overall experience. And since the pleasure is not distinct from the experience, there is no isolation problem. Its expected that one cannot isolate the good feeling from the experience if the two are intimately connected. Hence, the feels good theory of pleasure does not suffer from the problems of the distinctive feeling theory. The putative lack of phenomenological support is the only pressing problem for the view. But this too can be put aside.

The Heterogeneity Problem Reconsidered There are two reasons to think that the heterogeneity problem is not a genuine problem, and that no compelling objections remain to the hedonic tone theory. First, the heterogeneity problem overstates the significance of our inability to express what it is

Feels Good 14 like to feel pleasure. Any request for us to describe the common aspects of pleasurable experiences results in befuddlement. Based on our inability to express the similarity with any degree of explicitness, philosophers have assumed that there must not be any similarity. But this is too hasty; befuddlement is not unique to pleasure. Just try to say what it is like to taste or to smell. When we describe what it is like to taste a particular food, we often have no recourse but comparison: It tastes like chicken. When asked what it is like to taste, in general, one has even less to say. But this does not mean that there is nothing it is like to taste, that there is no similarity in taste experiences except for our desire to keep chewing. Second, the supposed strength of the heterogeneity problem is a product of bringing in too much with the phrase pleased that. There are many things about which one might say that they are pleased, but, if questioned, one would not describe the experience as pleasurable. Retrospectively, we might be glad (pleased) that something is the case, but this should not be taken to suggest that we are currently feeling pleasure. Our language is somewhat misleading here: We say that we are pleased when we do not feel pleasure. Nevertheless, there are many cases of indisputable attitudinal pleasure that occur at the time when we learn that something good has taken place. These are unambiguously pleasures; they feel good. There are the cases where when someone asks Did that make you feel good? we say yes. Confusing non-pleasures with genuine pleasures has led philosophers to conclude that we need separate theories of attitudinal and sensory pleasure.12 And trying to incorporate all cases where we say that we are pleased that such and such is the case, creates false difficulties for felt quality theories.

Feels Good 15 It is no surprise that we are unable to locate a common pleasurable feeling between pleasurable and non-pleasurable experiences. Although we cannot isolate a distinctive feeling of pleasure, and we are laughably inarticulate when it comes to describing what its like to feel pleasure, the situation is no different from other types of experiences. Rather than supporting the case against felt quality theories, as almost everyone has supposed, the phenomenology of pleasurable experiences provides support. When one reflects on various pleasurable experiences of different sizes and shapes, there is indeed something common. Its not the experience of simply having an intrinsic desire; its the experience of something feeling good. I have tried to capture this commonality by metaphorical descriptions, noting the warm glow, the enticing hum of pleasure. But Im afraid that I cannot do the experience of pleasure justice.

Conclusion The motivational theory of pleasure is not only counterintuitive; the reduction of pleasure to desire fails. Perhaps it is necessary to have a contemporaneous intrinsic desire for an experience to be pleasurable, but it is certainly not sufficient. It is coherent to think that we can and do desire non-pleasures. In fact, there are many such cases involving painful art. Further the motivational theory proposes a radical revision in our concept of pleasure, a revision that makes it impossible to non-vacuously explain motivation by recourse to pleasure. Given these problems there is good reason to reject the theory, especially since it lacks a genuine impetus.

Feels Good 16 The heterogeneity problem is not a problem for the more intuitive, felt quality theories. The feels good theory of pleasure escapes the difficulties of the distinctive feeling view and sits on the right side of the Euthyphro-style problem. Rather than lack of phenomenological support, the feels good theory suffers primarily from our own inarticulateness when it comes to phenomenal descriptions.

Aaron Smuts Visiting Assistant Professor Department of Philosophy Temple University asmuts@gmail.com

Feels Good 17 Notes

1

Henry Sidgwick, The Methods of Ethics (London, 1907); Richard Brandt, A Theory of the Good and the Right (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1979); Chris Heathwood, Desire Satisfactionism and Hedonism, Philosophical Studies (2006, vol. 128; pp. 539-563) and The Reduction of Sensory Pleasure to Desire, Philosophical Studies (2007, vol. 133; pp. 23-44); and Fred Feldman, Two Questions about Pleasure in Utilitarianism, Hedonism, and Desert (Cambridge, 1997) and Pleasure and the Good Life (Oxford, 2004). .
2

Fred Feldman defends what he calls the attitudinal theory of pleasure, which holds that sensory pleasures are those that we are pleased to have. Its not entirely clear that his theory should be called a motivational theory, since it does not make reference to desire. Feldmans theory avoids the problems facing any attempted reduction of pleasure to desire, but it suffers from the same Euthyphro-style problem as the motivational theory. In addition, it rests on a problematic distinction between attitudinal and sensory pleasures. Due to limitations of scope, I do not discuss Feldmans theory in this presentation.
3

Since Sidgwick does not say that pleasurable experiences are those that we do desire, but those that are desirable, he does not clearly offer a motivational theory. Of course, it depends on how one cashes out the notion of desirable.
4 5 6 7

Sidgwick, p. 127. Brant, p. 38. On page 41, Brandt offers a more technical notion of pleasure in functionalist terms. William Alston, Pleasure, in The Encyclopedia of Philosophy (Collier-Macmillan, 1968). Thomas Carson, Value and the Good Life, (University of Notre Dame Press, 2000), p. 13. Heathwood, Reduction. p. 32

8
9

This move also makes the motivational theory dependent on a highly suspect theory of desire. Due to limitations of scope, for the sake of argument I will assume that it makes sense to desire what we already have. 10 There are a variety of answers on the table to the Paradox of Painful Art. Control theorists argue that the putative painfulness of some artworks is mitigated by our ability to stop experiencing them at will (Morreall 1985). Compensation theorists argue that any painful reactions must be compensated for by other pleasures, either in the craft of the narrative (Hume) or in the awareness that we are sympathetic creatures responsive to the suffering of others (Feagin 1983). Conversion theorists argue that the overall experience of painful artworks is not one of pain but of pleasure, as the pain is converted into a larger, more pleasurable experience (Hume). Power theorists argue that we enjoy the feeling of power that arises from either the realization of the endurance of humanity (Price 1998), or through the overcoming of our fear (Shaw 2001). Rich experience theorists argue that there are many reasons why people do things other than to feel pleasure. The overall experience of painful art may be one of pain, but the experience can still be seen as valuable, and, as such, motivating (Smuts 2007). See: Alex Neil, "On a Paradox of the Heart" (Philosophical Studies, vol. 65, 1992, pp. 53-65); Susan Feagin, "The Pleasures of Tragedy" ( American Philosophical Quarterly, vol. 20, no. 1, 1983); David Hume, "Of Tragedy" in Essays Moral, Political, and Literary (Liberty Fund; Indianapolis, 1985); Amy Price, "Nietzsche and the Paradox of Tragedy" ( British Journal of Aesthetics, Oct. 1998, 4); Daniel Shaw, Power, Horror, and Ambivalence, in Horror, Special issue of Film and Philosophy (2007); and Aaron Smuts, The Paradox of Painful Art (Journal of Aesthetic Education, 2007, vol. 41, no. 3, pp. 59-77).
11

C. D. Broad, Five Types of Ethical Theory (Littlefield, Adams and Co, 1959), pp. 228-230.

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12

This mistake is the source of Feldmans second question about pleasurewhats the relationship between attitudinal and sensory pleasure? If Im right, there is no essential difference between attitudinal and sensory pleasures. See, Fred Feldman, Two Questions about Pleasure.